I skate to the center, glancing toward the boards—and freeze.
She’s here.
Of course she is. She’s at every practice, standing on the sidelines with her clipboard in hand, taking notes like it’s just another day at work. Which it is. She’s just doing her job, and I should respect that. Should stop fucking staring.
But knowing that doesn’t stop my body from reacting like a goddamn idiot every time she’s in the rink.
Because now all I can think about is her under me. Her back against the mattress, fingers curling in my hair. Her breathy little moans in my ear as I kissed my way down her?—
Something hard smacks against my shin guard.
“Fuck!”
I whip around, and Cole is staring at me, brow arched. “You’re staring,” he says flatly.
Shit.
“Staring at what?” I feign ignorance, even as my face burns hot.
Cole scoffs, shaking his head before skating off, leaving me standing there like an idiot.
I know I’m being obvious, but I can’t help it. Can’t stop looking at her—thinking about her—since that night. Since I met her, actually.
The thought of her going home with some other guy at the party the other night had my jaw clenched so fucking hard I thought it might snap.
I knew I wanted her. I just didn’t know how bad.
And now that I’ve had her—now that I know what she sounds like, tastes like, feels like—I can’t stop wanting her.
The whistle blows, snapping me out of it.
“Reed!” Coach’s voice cuts through the rink. “The fuck are you doing standing there like a statue? Get moving!”
I shake off the distraction, grip my stick, and push forward, skating hard through the drill. The ice is smooth beneath my skates, the air cold on my face, sweat dripping from my brow.
Logan passes me the puck, and I take it, pushing forward before sending a hard pass to Austin. His stick wobbles, and the shot flies wide.
“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head in frustration.
“Try opening your stance more,” a voice calls from the boards. Isabella’s.
Austin turns, his eyebrows furrowed, looking between her and Coach. “You sure?”
Coach doesn’t even glance up. “Listen to my daughter and do what she says.”
Austin stands taller, hand to his forehead in a salute. “Sir, yes sir.”
He straightens up, gets in position, and waits for the puck again. When it comes, he opens up, adjusts his angle, and fires. The puck slams into the top corner of the net.
“Well, what do you know,” Austin grins, tapping his stick on the ice. “Baby Hayes knows her stuff after all.”
I chuckle as Austin skates past me, my chest lighting up with pride.
Yeah, she fucking does.
I shake off my thoughts and drop into position as we start the power play drill. The puck drops, and I immediately battle Logan for possession, tying up his stick and kicking the puck to my blade.
I pivot, my eyes scanning for an opening, and fire a quick saucer pass to Austin.
